


Disgraceful

by highfunctioningsarcastic



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: F/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Sherlock Being a Good Brother, elopement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfunctioningsarcastic/pseuds/highfunctioningsarcastic
Summary: The requisite 'Mycroft finds out that Enola and Tewkesbury eloped by reading about it in the paper' fic.
Relationships: Enola Holmes & Mycroft Holmes, Enola Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury, Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 292





	Disgraceful

The day is wet, and Mycroft doesn’t bother to shut his umbrella in the carriage. He’ll be getting out again in less than twenty minutes, and he’s already later than he meant to be to the club. It isn’t that he wants to go particularly, on a day like today, but he must see Sherlock, catch up on news and gossip, and have a brandy. Not in that order, of course, but the day is as cold as it is wet, and his office rivals the open streets in draftiness. The club with its promise of a roaring fire and intelligent company far surpasses the allure of an office that can run itself for one morning, though it will be run into the ground.

Sherlock isn’t in yet when he arrives, but no matter; Mycroft is in no mood to rush through the single morning of relaxation he’s gotten or is likely to get this week, or month, for that matter. The fire is warmly crackling and inviting, and he can feel his entire self relax the moment he enters.

“Brandy, please,” he says, shrugging out of his coat, sitting down in an armchair, and opening the paper. There’s another reform bill, of course there is; Enola’s young lord is leading the charge to extend the vote to the even-less educated. He ought to pay a call on the marquess and drop some arch hints about propriety and what he expects of a young man running around with his sister, but he’s been so busy with work and the government lately, and it isn’t as though Enola is pregnant. At least, he hopes she isn’t. He almost never sees her, but Sherlock might know. Sherlock will know if there’s any impropriety to speak of. At least, Mycroft can hope so.

Shaking off the disconcerting thought, he continues to scan the headlines of the  _ Standard _ . The British South Africa Company finally got their charter; the use of the Suez canal has been settled; there’s been another train crash in the north of England. Mycroft often says that the country is going to pot, but he’s always right and the news is always worse and worse.

“Drinking, older brother? And so early in the day.”

“It never changes. You judge me for my job, you judge me for my drinking habits, you judge me for how I handled Enola...my God, Sherlock, it never ends.” Sherlock is silent for a long moment.

“I apologize for the first two but I do not and will not ever regret taking over care of Enola.” Myrcoft cedes the point and opens the paper to the personals.

“A new record of elopements at Gretna Green this weekend alone. No wonder England is in such a mess, these young people have no sense of propriety these ....” He trails off in horrified silence at the familiarity of the names in the last elopement announcement on the page. Sherlock looks at him quizzically.

“What’s so alarming about elopements? Surely you didn’t have a paramour that’s run off with someone else?” Mycroft shoves the page at his younger brother, his temper rising.

“Enola. She’s disgraced the family again and again, and what’s more, she’s finally dragged that companion of hers, the marquess into it, and for God’s sake, Sherlock, they’ve--look.” Sherlock takes his time reading the announcement. There are only twenty words in it; it shouldn’t take so long. “Well? I know you promised you’d take care of her but that’s hardly apparent here. I mean, she’s gone and gotten married.  _ They’ve _ gotten married.”

“So they have.” Sherlock replaces the paper on the end table, giving Mycroft his full attention.

“This is unacceptable,” Mycroft spits, standing up and signalling for his coat. Sherlock frowns. 

“You’re not going to Gretna Green?”

“Of course not. I shall be waiting at Basilwether Hall when they return.” 

“Is it not a possibility that they care for each other?” Mycroft paces in front of Sherlock, careful to keep his voice down even though he’s utterly livid. Sherlock looks vaguely amused.

“They do more than that, I’d be willing to wager. Sherlock, do you imagine she’s….she’s….of course she is. There’s no other reason anyone in the House of Lords would marry such a wild little thing, except to salvage her honor. Their relationship has always been too visible, I knew it could come to no good, for all he is a marquess. In other circumstances, this would be a boon for any family, but this….this is insufferable.”

“Mycroft.”

“What?”

“Enola isn’t pregnant,” Sherlock says. Mycroft fixes his younger brother with a doubtful stare. “I saw her last week, when she and Tewkesbury came to tea and, ah, ‘tested the waters’ to see how I would react to news of their marriage.”

“You knew?”

“I did.” 

“And you think it wise for two teenagers to make the most momentous decision of their lives when they’ve known each other less than a year? They’re already the talk of London, Sherlock.”

“And after the surprise of their elopement, London will have no reason to speak of them any more.” Mycroft turns to his brother with a frown.

“You think it’s a marriage of convenience?”

“I am convinced it is not.”

“You believe they...care for one another.”

“I am sure of it. He looks at her the way Father looked at Mother, you know, and she looks at him the way--what was her name? no matter--looked at you.” Mycroft can feel the blood returning to his face. It’s time for this conversation to end.

“I’m still going to Basilwether,” Mycroft says, taking up his coat. Sherlock nods and reopens the paper.

“I would expect nothing less.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, the Mycroft in my head is awful.
> 
> Chapter Two of Ripples should be up soonish, though I'm probably dooming myself by telling you that.


End file.
